Avengers: Everything Burns
by Reborn Dark Phoenix
Summary: All shall be consumed by his eternal flames. Ragnarok has begun at last, and Surtur now strikes with a vengeance, with Amora as his avatar of destruction. Asgard has fallen. Thor is broken. The gods themselves have failed. What hope, then, do the Avengers have? *Post "Avengers Assemble!" *1st in a 5 story saga.*


**Disclaimer: All characters are property and trademarks of Marvel Comics, and therefore Disney by extent. I don't own them.**

* * *

 **REBORN DARK PHOENIX**

 **PROUDLY PRESENTS**

 **AVENGERS: EVERYTHING BURNS**

* * *

Prologue: All Shall Be Consumed

* * *

 **Muspelheim, one of the Nine Asgardian Realms.**

"Amora the Enchantress."

Her eyes snapped open, small flames burning within them, eyes that once shone a brilliant jade color. With a small crack of her neck, Amora slowly stood from her meditative position, flames surrounding her on all sides. She simply smirked before vanishing in a fierce storm of flame, only to reappear a moment later before her Lord and Master.

The heavy thunders of iron against steel welcomed Amora into the Fire Demon Lord's presence. Eternal flames roared and danced around her, licking at her exposed flesh and yet without any harm at all. Such was a gift granted to her, one of many since she was bestowed with an immense wealth of power.

She was within the very heart of Muspelheim, the Realm that was home to the Fire Demons, sworn enemies of Asgard and Odin All-Father. The realm where flames eternal burned and pits boiled with the roars of liquid fire. She was before her Lord and Master, the one who had taken her and granted her power beyond her imagination, power she never thought was possible to obtain. The one who had opened her mind to the end of all that was and would be.

Amora stood in the presence of Surtur the Fire Demon, Lord of Muspelheim and all that was within it. Sworn enemy of Odin All-Father and all of Asgard. And now, the wielder of the restored Twilight Sword.

Surtur slammed his forging hammer powerfully onto his mold, echoing booms resonating across the Realm. He struck with precision and care, and yet with enough strength to shatter stars and break whole empires with a single blow, as he had done so already in the cosmos. All possible through the use of one of the greatest tools, and possibly weapons, of the Nine Realms.

The Mold of Eitri, the Dwarf King of a now dead Nidavellir. The power of a star contained within a mere blacksmith's mold cauldron, enough power to destroy entire worlds and extinguish the stars themselves.

A suitable...gift Surtur had taken upon his release. The Mold of Eitri was a necessity for him once he had reclaimed the shards of the Twilight Sword for his own. The very same mold used to forge the greatest weapon of Asgard: Mjolnir, uru hammer of Thor the Thunder. Blessed by Odin himself, Mjolnir was the greatest weapon ever forged by the Dwarf King and his blacksmiths, _possibly_ rivaled only by the Stormbreaker. The Mold of Eitri had not since nor ever would birth a weapon of similar caliber to receive the blessing of Odin. As such, the Dwarves of Nidavellir had kept it hidden in their realm, safe from the clutches of evil.

Until a greater evil was set loose once more.

And while no weapon would ever compare to Mjolnir, nor would another weapon receive such blessings from the All-Father, it did not mean the Mold of Eitri was useless. It could still be used again, over and over again. A fact that Asgard would painfully learn in the times to come.

"The pieces will soon begin falling into place, child," the Fire Demon rumbled to Amora, his voice shaking the flames around them. "The end of all that is and will be draws nearer with every blow I make unto the Forge of Eitri. Soon, you will be at the forefront of our assault, Amora."

"You already have the Twilight Sword in your possession, My Lord," Amora responded, the flames in her eyes disappearing. "You restored it months ago, and yet you continue to toil away at the Mold of Eitri and forge again and again. Why?"

"You have served me well since I claimed you as my own, Amora. It is only fitting that you be rewarded for all that you have accomplished in my name, and for my will. And

"What use do I have for a weapon, my Lord? You have bestowed upon me great power, enough that I was able to face Thor in full frontal combat. Your hordes are at my command, at my beck and call. Along with the magics you have allowed me to keep, I have power as I have never had before."

"The power I have granted you is mighty, yes. But with the weapon I prepare for you, it will be harnessed in new ways. It will be in tune to that power, work in harmony with it. With this weapon, coupled with your power, nothing will stand against you."

"...I will not deny your gift of weaponry, my Lord," Amora said with acceptance. "But to toil so long in Muspelheim to craft a weapon? I do not feel Odin's detection, for you continue to hinder his sight even as we returned to Muspelheim…"

"It is not only your weapon I forge here, Amora. Several of our allies will need strength and power even greater than what they have now. Your weapon will be the mightiest of them all, but theirs will be a force to be reckoned with. They will shake the Realms to their very foundations. With these weapons, these allies will join you in your initial strikes against the Nine Realms."

"...My Lord?" Amora asked with curious surprise.

"You will lead the first waves of our assault. A select group meant to shake the defenses of Asgard, armed with the weapons I have forged here all this time, with the Mold of Eitri."

"Why me?" Amora couldn't help but ask.

"You are my avatar of destruction, Amora," Surtur rumbled. "I chose you to be my harbinger, my messenger to Asgard and to all the Nine Realms. You are who I shall use to burn the Nine Worlds to ash, to bring about the end of Asgard and all that stand alongside her. With you, I shall burn Yggdrassil to its roots and do away with all the Nine Realms."

Surtur continued to forge away over the Mold of Eitri, his blows molding his creation to his liking. "I will join the battle, of course. Asgard will fall before me, as will Odin All-Father. None will be spared my wrath or my flames. Mortal and immortal alike with tremble under our feet. You and I will pave the way for the end of all things, for the inevitable destruction that has been destined since the beginning. None can stand against us, Amora. Not even Odin Borson."

"...Thor will stand against you."

Surtur's arm froze mid swing, the Fire Demon's eyes narrowing as he slowly turned to glare at Amora. His voice rumbled with accusation. "What did you say?"

Amora was surprised at herself; where had that thought come from? She was an avatar of Surtur, molded by his hand. She was his disciple, and therefore, she had no reason to voice such things. She understood full well, though, where it came from. While Amora was Surtur's, she had not submitted fully to the Fire Demon. There was still a small spark of rebellion that remained within her, a small sliver of her former self that prayed for her freedom, and Surtur's defeat.

While Surtur had claimed an unwilling and frightened Asgardian so long ago, he had what seemed like eternity to mold her as he saw fit. To remake her as his own, his servant and avatar. It had been a painful process for Amora, but Surtur broke her and made her new in his image, shown in the new burning red armor he had bestowed upon her. An image that Amora embraced, welcomed. She had been gifted with his power as a result; power enough to stand against Thor himself. All that Amora once was belonged to Surtur. Her will was his, her vision was his.

And yet, a small part of Amora still shone within herself. A small part that yearned for salvation. To be free from Surtur's machinations. She couldn't be a part of the burning destruction Surtur sought to unleash. Despite her evil, her desire to overthrow Odin and Asgard, she was still an Asgardian and Vanir. She didn't seek the end of life. And for that, deep within Amora, there was still a cling to hope. Hope for the rescue at the hands of Thor, Odin All-Father, from the Asgardian hosts...from her Executioner.

But she wouldn't need a rescue. She belonged to the Fire Demon Surtur, and she was his avatar. A role that she reveled in, that she had readily received and welcomed. Amora pushed those thoughts from her mind, the small bit of her true self smothered by her new will. She was better than that.

Only seconds had passed before Amora continued. "Thor will not simply stand by and watch you...watch us burn the Nine Realms, let alone Asgard. And least of all, Midgard. He has set himself as the protector of the realm of mortals, and he would defend it with his dying breath. And his mortal allies, the Avengers, will fight relentlessly against you when you arrive upon Midgard."

Surtur was silent for a moment, Amora meeting his still narrowed eyes. To Amora's surprise, though, Surtur then burst into laughter, his voice carrying out across the Realm. The Fire Demon's laughter sounded mocking, as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard. And in all actuality, he didn't. Amora saw easily how dismissive he was of the notion she just gave voice to. And it brought a smirk to her face.

Surtur's booming laughter continued to shake all of Muspelheim before dying down after several more moments. Surtur then slammed his forging hammer onto the Mold of Eitri once more, crafting his creation with utmost care and yet with untold strength.

"Let him come," Surtur said with a smirk, his voice full of sinister amusement. "The mortals mean less than nothing to me, but Thor...Thor may think he can challenge me. But he will find himself wanting. The Odinson barely stood against me before I was sealed within Muspelheim. And if by some miracle he is saved from the destruction of the other realms and meets me on Midgard...then he and his mortal allies can burn with Midgard."

Burn with Midgard. A mirror of what Amora herself had spit at Thor when he rejected her for the final time. An irony Surtur surely had no notice of, but it wasn't lost on her. Amora smirked. Thor had rejected her for the last time, and he would pay.

Perhaps she would derive own personal pleasure the grand scheme of things, after all.

"Our time has come, Amora. Allies will need to be called, armies to be gathered, worlds to burn. And gods to vanquish."

"And what of Loki, my Lord?"

Surtur barked in amusement and mockery. "Loki? What of him? He is nothing to me. He has no place in my plans. He showed that he is unable to be counted upon when he couldn't even humble Thor...and the mortals. The Lord of Mischief fell to little _specks_."

The forging hammer thundered once more as the Fire Demon brought it down upon his creation, the unholy flames of Muspelheim dancing around the two immortals. The Mold of Eitri poured its power into Surtur's work, each of Surtur's blows as powerful as the one before.

"Loki cannot even master the weakest of the Realms," Surtur continued. "If even that is too much for the son of Laufey, then he has no place in the grand scheme of things to come. He will play no part in the coming destruction. Let him rot under the breath of Jormungand. His time will come as well...while ours has just begun."

With a final, powerful slam of his tool, Surtur at last found himself pleased with his newest creation, his latest of many great weapons made to bring Asgard to her knees. Setting his forging hammer aside, he beckoned at Amora to come. The Asgardian felt an aura surround her as she found herself afloat, drawing closer to Surtur by his mere will. It wasn't long before she floated directly in front the demon's face, his eyes burning with the Eternal Flame.

"Odin will no doubt stand against us," the Fire Demon continued. "He will be quick to see, however, just how futile his efforts will be. I will personally see to it that he and all of Asgard are reduced to ash as the Golden City crumbles around them."

With a flaming glow of his hand, Surtur outstretched it over the Mold of Eitri. The flames within seemed to glow even more supernaturally as his creation burst from the flames of the Mold, ascending towards where Amora floated before Surtur.

"And should the Odinson decide to defy us, defy the eternal cycle...you, Amora, shall show him the extent of my power, and teach him subjugation."

At that, the newly forged weapon stopped its ascendance, hovering right before Amora. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of it. The fact that Surtur had made this weapon for her to use in the coming destruction was surprising enough. It was the shape that struck her most. Her Lord and Master had clearly made it in mockery to the House of Odin. A weapon that Amora recognized all too well, its shape akin to the very weapon the God of Thunder wielded with command and power.

A hammer forged of Dwarvian steel in the flames of Muspelheim. Forged in the Mold of Eitri, made from the heart of a star, blessed by the All-Father himself. A mold made to forge weapons for the gods.

Now used to forge weapons to subjugate the gods.

"Ragnarok has arrived, my child," Surtur declared. "And everything...shall burn."

* * *

 **And with that, everyone, welcome to my newest story, "Avengers: Everything Burns." This is my take on what could've happened within the Avengers: EMH-verse if the series had continued on, especially with the unfinished plot of Surtur and Ragnarok.**

 **This story will be the first of a five part series. After all, there's plenty of potential to be used within this universe. The series will be inspired by a number of Avengers and Marvel arcs, all while adding my own unique take on things.**

 **Remember to review and all that jazz! All thoughts and critiques are welcome. And also, I invite you all to also check out another one of my stories, "Justice League: Warbringer," my own personal continuation of the DCAU post Justice League Unlimited, also the first of a five part series.**

 **First chapter is coming soon. With that, until next time, readers.**


End file.
